


Changing Perspectives

by vix_spes



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The youngest of their Company had come on the Quest armed with only a slingshot and by the time they reached Rivendell, Dwalin was completely and utterly fascinated by him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Perspectives

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Hobbistale](http://hobbitstale.livejournal.com). This is all movie-verse as requested by [mahmfic](http://mahmfic.livejournal.com) except for the fact that I have made one small change in order to make the plot work … in the film we aren’t really told how long the dwarves stay in Rivendell but it seems fairly short whereas in the book they are there for 17 days. I’ve gone with somewhere in the middle and they stay there for a couple of days. Any recognisable dialogue comes from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. Huge thanks to [margi-lynn](http://margi-lynn.livejournal.com) and [mahmfic](http://mahmfic.livejournal.com) for beta-ing this for me.

  
“Start with the youngest.”  
  
The words sent a shiver through Dwalin, even with Thorin stepping up. The blasted Goblin King would want to start with Ori, the youngest of their company. He wasn’t that much younger than Kíli, merely a handful of months, maybe a year at most, but the difference was that Dwalin knew that Kíli was a trained warrior even unarmed and relatively untested. After all, it had been Dwalin alongside Thorin who had trained both Fíli and Kíli since they were dwarflings. No, this was _Ori_ who had come on the Quest armed with only a simple slingshot and nothing else. He tried to manoeuvre so that he could place his bulk in between Ori and the Goblin King but he couldn’t quite manage it and that frustrated him more than anything.  
  
Despite his original disbelief that Ori had joined the Company and amazement that his brothers had let him (he had later found out that Ori had joined the company because he wanted to get to know his reprobate older brother and Dori had joined to keep an eye on both of his younger brothers), he had found himself feeling fiercely protective of the younger dwarrow. Even if his attention did earn him more than a few glares from the middle Ri sibling, something that was entirely justified considering the number of times that Dwalin had arrested him. He hadn’t been able to understand the feeling of protectiveness because it wasn’t as though Ori didn’t have family there to protect him and he wasn’t feeling this protective over Fíli and Kíli. Maybe the difference was that, even though no-one had explicitly acknowledged their familial link in front of their hobbit-burglar, everybody knew that Thorin was keeping a close eye on his sister-sons if only for the fact that Dís would kill him if he returned her boys damaged at all.  
  
He didn’t understand it. There was no denying how protective Ori’s brothers were of him, particularly Dori who mothered the dwarrow so much that you would think he was Ori’s Amad. Both of the elder Ri brothers were more than competent warriors; Dori could rival Dwalin for strength, if not outdo him, and was more than a dab hand with his bolas and sword while although Nori was probably more well-versed in tavern brawls, he was a solid fighter with his mace and dual knives. It was for that very reason that he couldn’t understand not only why they had allowed Ori to come, armed only with his slingshot and knife, but also why he seemingly had no other weapons training, something which was normally taught to every dwarfling to some extent even if they chose to take another path like that of a scribe as Ori had.   
  
That wasn’t always the case though. Take Balin for example. Dwalin’s older brother was one of the most formidable warriors that he had seen yet he was most comfortable in council or amidst his scrolls and tomes.  
  
“Bones will be shattered, necks will be rung! You’ll be beaten and battered, from racks you’ll be hung. You will lie down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin Town.”  
  
The mad Goblin King had obviously lost his interest in talking with Thorin and was dancing and jigging about as the goblins brought the instruments of torture up from the depths. Meanwhile, Dwalin turned his attention to the pile of their weapons that were being examined by the goblins, his own war hammer catching his attention. If only they could actually get to their weapons, he thought. This wasn’t the time for Ori’s little slingshot, regardless of how good a marksman he was, but Dwalin’s own war hammer would be perfect. Particularly considering that Ori had learnt how to wield it.  
  


_***FLASHBACK***_

  
  
Dwalin let his thoughts wander as he lost himself in the repetitive and familiar motions of checking his weaponry for damage after the battles with the trolls first and then with the blasted warg pack. Satisfied that there were no issues with his war hammer, he moved onto his axes and immediately found several small nicks in the blades. Thorin may have grumbled about them being brought to Rivendell, and Dwalin had to admit that he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of spending any length of time with elves, particularly if there was going to be a distinct lack of meat at all of the meals, but the Company did need the rest. Besides, this place may belong to elves but no-one, not even Thorin, could deny that they had been anything less than courteous. At this precise moment, most of the Company were taking advantage of the fact that there were actual beds and were getting some much needed rest. None of them were under any illusions about the length of their stay, particularly those who knew Thorin well. As soon as he felt they could, they would be moving on and continuing with the journey so they would need to take advantage of a safe place while they could. Although, not everybody had sought out rest, it would seem.  
  
Wandering into the courtyard in front of him, leather-bound book and ink in one hand and with a quill in the other, with his eyes glued to his surroundings was Ori. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There may not be much difference in age between Ori and Kíli, and both of them still retained some sort of innocence, but Ori _seemed_ much younger than Kíli. Ori, being the scribe and historian that he was, didn’t have the same disdain for the elves that the other dwarrows had (even if he was disgusted at their lack of chips) and had been wandering around with his eyes out on stalks ever since they had arrived. In fact, Ori had been so fascinated when they arrived that he had nearly been trampled by the bloody elves and their horses. Dwalin had had to push the lad behind him to ensure that he stayed safe and didn’t do anything stupid.  
  
He watched as the younger dwarrow continued to walk around sketching without even looking at the page, completely oblivious to the fact that Dwalin was watching him. At least he looked happier than he had at dinner when he had looked rather disconsolate at the fact that there was far too much green food on the table. Finally, Ori registered his presence with a little squeak that was, quite frankly adorable, a realisation that bemused Dwalin somewhat. He had no idea where that had come from but he supposed that Ori _was_ rather adorable.   
  
He raised an eyebrow as Ori came to sit beside him. Dwalin may have thought that at the beginning that that Ori was the kind of dwarrow to jump at shadows but he had acquitted himself well thus far. When he had been able to escape from under Dori’s eagle eye he had gravitated towards the hobbit as well as Fíli and Kíli, but most of the time he had kept himself to himself, sketching both the sights that they had passed as well as portraits of the members of the Company.  
  
“Couldn’t sleep, lad?”  
  
“Why would I want to sleep? There’s so much to see here.” The words practically spilled out of Ori’s mouth in his excitement. “It’s all so beautiful and different and the libraries…”  
  
Dwalin hid his smile at Ori’s words, “Don’t let Thorin hear you talk like that lad … he’d as soon leave you by the wayside, whatever your brothers said.”  
  
There was no response for several long minutes and Dwalin thought he had scared the dwarrow off. Finally there was the sound of a deep breath being taken before a quiet voice piped up.  
  
“Do you think I made a mistake in coming on the Quest, Mister Dwalin?” There was a pause there and when Dwalin looked sideways, he could see the younger dwarrow playing fretfully with a loose thread hanging from his mittens. “Do you think that Thorin made a mistake in letting me come on the Quest?”  
  
Dwalin was dumbstruck for several minutes and, momentarily, wished that the lad had asked these questions of any other dwarrow but himself or Bifur. Balin was the wordsmith out of the two brothers, not Dwalin; he had always been much better with his hands. He wracked his brain trying to find the words that he needed.  
  
“Why would you ask that, lad?”  
  
“Well, I’m not exactly useful am I? I’m more of a hindrance than anything else. The only things I can do well are write and draw but there isn’t much need for a scribe on the road. I’m useless with weapons; I was no help at all with the trolls or with the wargs. I should have tried harder when I was younger.”  
  
“Of course there’s a need for a scribe. Who else will tell of what we’ve done? Besides, it’s never too late to learn, lad.”  
  
Ori’s response was a fairly derogatory noise. “Learning on the road isn’t exactly practical is it?”

Dwalin seized the opportunity for what it was; the chance to spend time with Ori in a setting where, even if his brothers wouldn’t be completely happy about it they couldn’t say there was anything improper about it were they ever to find out, but also the opportunity to get to know this dwarrow who had him intrigued.  
  
“So learn here. Thorin might hate it but we’re stuck here until that elf lord tells us how to read the map. Try this on for size, lad.” Dwalin picked up his war hammer from where it had been lying at his feet and stood up, replacing the journal, quill and ink with the weapon. “Stand up, you can’t do anything sat down.”  
  
“But, but … I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ori stammered, looking more than a little awkward with the weapon in his hands.  
  
“And that’s why I’m going to teach you. If I managed to teach Fíli and Kíli, then I can certainly teach you.”  
  
“You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’ve got much better things to be doing with your time.”

“If I didn’t want to teach you, lad, then I wouldn’t have offered. Right, you need to change your stance so that you’re standing like this…”  
  
 _Two days later…_  
  
As Dwalin once again met Ori in the quiet courtyard he knew that this was going to be the last time that he would be able to teach Ori. Thorin had never been happy about them staying in Rivendell and now that he knew the details about the moon runes, they would be leaving as soon as they could sneak away unnoticed. The plan was to leave as soon as Gandalf and the elf-lord were meeting with the other wizard and the elf-woman. It was for that reason that they had brought this session forward into the daylight hours.   
  
He couldn’t help but be impressed that they had managed their training sessions this long without the elder Ri siblings finding out; apparently Ori had picked up a trick or two from Nori, however unintentionally. He was also more than a little impressed with how quickly Ori had actually picked up using the war hammer. He was by no means an expert but he had shown more than a little aptitude for it and Dwalin couldn’t help but be proud of his student.  
  
Tonight, the plan was for them to actually engage in a mock duel with Ori using the hammer to fend off Dwalin using Grasper and Keeper. Dwalin had mentioned bringing in someone else for Ori to fight against but the younger dwarrow had vetoed that plan, adamant that he wanted to keep the whole thing secret. On the very first night, Ori had smiled shyly and asked if they could keep this between the two of them. That blasted tentative smile had played on Dwalin’s mind all night leaving him with a seriously disturbed night’s rest.  
  
The night’s rest following their second lesson had been no better as the more time that he spent with Ori, the more Dwalin liked what he saw. Ori may not have been what other dwarrows regarded as normal but, in Dwalin’s opinion, that just made him all the more interesting. He may have shunned the more typical or expected crafts of the dwarrows but he had still excelled at what he did and there was always a need for scribes and historians. Besides, Dwalin had spent enough time with his older brother as a dwarfling to be able to understand the amount of work that went into the beautifully illustrated volumes that lined the walls of Erebor’s Royal Library, even if he had never truly understood the fascination himself.  
  
He just couldn’t understand why Ori wanted to keep his new abilities a secret - because that’s what they were; abilities. His attempts with a sword, something that they had attempted briefly as an experiment, were fairly pitiful and it was by mutual agreement that they had focused on the war hammer. Dwalin had been surprised and impressed by the natural aptitude that Ori had showed for the weapon. He was far from an expert but he wielded it confidently and gracefully, the weapon looking comfortable in his hands.   
  
They had started off with Dwalin instructing Ori in the various forms of using the hammer as a weapon before they had moved onto wielding it against a variety of immovable objects. He had no doubt that should they find themselves in the midst of battle, something that was inevitable, all of these lessons would fly out of Ori’s head and he would simply swing the weapon about with wild abandon. Still, a war hammer wielded with even a small amount of skill was a far better option than a simple slingshot, regardless of how good a marksman Ori was. But, before they saw battle, Ori needed to have practice at fighting moving objects which is where Dwalin came in.  
  
Even fighting at half of his abilities, Dwalin would be able to ensure that Ori could hit things that didn’t just stay still. Besides, Dwalin had been enjoying this. It had seemed far too long since he had trained Fíli and Kíli and Ori was a far better student than either of them. That wasn’t in terms of aptitude because both Durin boys had already shown some skills when they first came to him and they were certainly eager to do well lest they disappoint Thorin. They had had natural ability with weaponry but Ori had sheer determination. The rate that he had progressed, Dwalin would have been fairly certain that whatever time Ori hadn’t been spending in the library he had been practising were it not for the fact that his weapons had never left his sight.   
  
When he had questioned Ori about it, the younger dwarrow had admitted that he had read several texts about weapons and training as a dwarfling and then in recent years but, rather than not trying hard enough at his studies, it had been more a case of not having any time to apply himself to weapons training as he had had to focus all of his time on his apprenticeship and mastery in an attempt to bring in more money for the family. As he said that, Dwalin was reminded that the brothers all had different fathers and that their Amad had died when Ori was far too young; Balin had always said that the Brothers Ri were of the House of Durin on the wrong side of the bedclothes. Not that Dwalin cared, he liked Ori for Ori.  
  


(~*~)

  
  
A good few hours later, Dwalin grinned as Ori managed to block his attack for the fifth time in a row. It had taken them more than a while to get to this point. Prior to their break for lunch, Dwalin had got the better of Ori every single time but then Ori had started to up his game. His swings became smoother and quicker and, whilst he never actually beat Dwalin outright, he certainly came close more than once.  
  
The weather in this blasted elf house was actually warmer than it had been before they got here. Bilbo had tried to explain it but Dwalin had tuned out when he started going on about magic rings; bloody elves. What it meant was that by the time the sun was at its height in the afternoon sky, both of them had stripped down with Ori just in his trousers and thin undershirt while Dwalin was just in his trousers, having foregone his shirts all together.  
  
It took a while for Dwalin to realise that, while Ori had been getting better, the minute that Dwalin removed his shirts the lad had been getting progressively worse with each bout. Realising that Ori was getting distracted and that his gaze was lingering on Dwalin, the warrior decided to test his theory.  
  
“Right, this is going to be your last go, lad. Your brothers will be looking for you if you’re not back soon.”  
  
Dwalin had always been proud of his body but was equally aware of the fact that he didn’t look like your typical dwarf given his baldness. There was also the fact that while tattoos were a traditional part of dwarven culture, dwarrows were not normally quite as covered in them as Dwalin was. More than a few dwarrows and dwarrow dams had been more than a little intimidated by his appearance. Still, judging by the appreciative look in Ori’s eyes, he certainly wasn’t intimidated. Dwalin swung Grasper slowly in his right hand, knowing that the movement made his muscles flex, and as Ori swallowed visibly he attacked. Whereas before he had been holding back significantly, this time he didn’t bother. It was time for them to stop messing around. He still held back but there was no way that Ori was going to be able to hold his own even though he made a valiant attempt. It seemed like no time at all before Ori was flat on his back breathing heavily, the war hammer in his out flung arm and Dwalin pretty much straddling him.   
  
Ori was just there for the taking. And that was exactly what Dwalin was going to do.

Moving slowly, knowing that Ori’s experience was likely minimal and not wanting to scare him, Dwalin set aside Grasper and Keeper before removing his war hammer from Ori’s vice-like grip and placing it with his axes. Still moving slowly he leant in, resisting the urge to chuckle as Ori’s eyes crossed in an attempt to follow Dwalin’s every movement. The first kiss was scarcely more than two sets of lips brushing against each other; Dwalin pausing in between each action, wanting to give Ori time to put an end to this even if it definitely wasn’t what Dwalin wanted.   
  
When Ori showed no signs of jumping up and running away screaming but was also looking less shell-shocked, he dipped his head for a longer kiss although it was still relatively chaste. When Ori’s hands flexed above Dwalin’s shoulders, as though he wanted to touch but still wasn’t sure, Dwalin pressed his advantage and deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slide out and swipe across Ori’s bottom lip before delving into the younger dwarrows mouth, relishing the slight pain as Ori gasped, his hands finding their grip and tightening in Dwalin’s hair as he surged against the older dwarrow.  
  
As Ori started to become an active participant in the kiss, Dwalin shifted so that his body was settled over Ori although he ensured that didn’t fully rest his weight on Ori. Dwalin knew exactly what he wanted, what he was hoping for but he wasn’t going to force that response from Ori. Instead, he was going to coax it, extracting mewls and whimpers that became progressively louder and made Dwalin hope that Dori or Nori hadn’t chosen this precise moment to go wandering around.   
  
Pulling back briefly to take a breath, Dwalin hungrily took in the sight of Ori pinned beneath him, something that he had wanted for a long time. Ori was a sight for sore eyes normally but now, he was even more so. Hair and braids ruffled and askew, the lavender ribbon that he wore in one of said braids unravelling, with passion-glazed eyes and lips already slightly swollen, Dwalin couldn’t help but thank Mahal that it was him that Ori was lying underneath and nobody else. Dipping his head, he claimed Ori’s lips slightly more roughly than previously, grinning inwardly as it resulted in Ori’s fingers clawing their way down Dwalin’s back. Dwalin loved how responsive the younger dwarrow was.   
  
It was when Dwalin pulled back some time later, he started to realise he needed to put a stop to things before they went too far; something that could happen all too easily. The loose tunic that Ori had stripped down to had obviously belonged to one of his brothers at some point or another because it practically fell off Ori’s skinnier frame. A groan ripped itself from Dwalin’s throat and he couldn’t resist all of that tantalising pale skin dotted with freckles. Leaning down, he started to cover what skin he could access in kisses and teasing nips, pausing at the juncture where neck met shoulder to suckle a livid purple mark there. Once Ori was fully dressed it wouldn’t be visible to the rest of the Company but Dwalin would take delight in knowing that it was there nonetheless. Ori obviously approved judging by the gasps and moans escaping from the writhing body beneath him.  
  
It was the moment when Dwalin had his hands down the back of Ori’s trousers and Ori’s nimble fingers were scrabbling at the laces of Dwalin’s trousers that he realised he had to put a stop to this, at least temporarily. If he let things keep moving in this direction then he wouldn’t be able to wait long enough for them to make it to a bedroom. He might want Ori desperately but he wasn’t going to take him in a clearing where anyone could walk in on them be they a member of the Company or a blasted elf.  
  
“We can’t Ori, not now. We leave before the sun rises and you deserve better than a hurried few hours.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“No buts, lad,” Mahal, but the look that Ori was giving him was enough to tempt a saint and Dwalin was no saint. “You deserve better and I’m determined that you will get better. Besides, I’m not going to give your brothers any more ammunition. If we’re going to do this then we’re going to do it properly.”  
  
Dwalin paused and took a deep breath. What he was about to propose was moving fast considering that it had only been tonight that they had first kissed but he knew in his heart that this was the right decision for him, even if his timing left something to be desired. Then again, Balin had always said the men in their family fell hard and fell fast. “I would court you if you would have me.”  
  
The silence in the courtyard was deafening and, as Ori’s eyes widened, Dwalin wondered if he’d made the right decision in speaking up so soon. His fears appeared to be unfounded as a beatific smile spread across Ori’s face and he stepped in closer, wrapping his arms around Dwalin’s bulk and practically rising up onto his tiptoes. The kiss that Ori then bestowed upon Dwalin as a result of his words was the sweetest that the warrior had ever received and his hope rekindled. Maybe he hadn’t made the wrong decision.  
  
“Yes, I’ll have you.”  
  


_***END FLASHBACK***_

  
  
Dwalin was jerked out of his thoughts at howls of rage and fear arose from the goblins all around them, not to mention the fact that the Goblin King had trampled more than a few of his own subjects in his attempt to get away from Thorin’s sword, which lay partially unsheathed in front of them.  
  
“I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks.”  
  
The sight of Thorin’s elven-forged sword had completely and utterly enraged the Goblin King.  
  
“Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”   
  
Dwalin growled as the goblins held Thorin down, holding a knife to his throat. Being Thorin’s personal guard had been his position for years and, presuming that they were successful in retaking Erebor, would be Captain of the Royal Guard so the fact that he was incapable of helping his friend and King was galling. All of a sudden there was a huge explosion of bright light, knocking dwarrows and goblins alike to the floor. When the force of the explosion had passed, most of the lights being snuffed out they realised that the cause of the explosion had been Gandalf.   
  
“Take up arms. Fight. Fight!”  
  
Dwalin fumbled for his weapons whilst brushing off goblins, breathing a sigh of relief as his hands found the familiar handles of Grasper and Keeper. As the Goblin King ranted and raved on his throne, urging his followers forward, Dwalin transferred both axes to one hand temporarily as he caught sight of his war hammer underfoot. Barely thinking about it, he pressed the weapon into Ori’s hands, squeezing them tightly as he did so with no time for anything more. More than anything, he wanted to be able to lean in and kiss Ori but they didn’t need the distraction and he equally didn’t want to taint the kisses that they had shared in that sunlit drenched courtyard in Rivendell.  
  
“Here, lad, use this.”  
  
Dwalin could see the way that Ori’s eyes had widened in shock and, even though he couldn’t see it, he knew that Ori’s cheeks would be covered by that becoming flush. Even though he had told Ori of his intention to court the younger dwarrow and Ori had ostensibly accepted, they hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. This however, giving Ori one of his beloved weapons, practically shouted to any dwarrow who noticed that Dwalin had announced his intention to court Ori and that Ori had accepted. In the heat of battle however, the likelihood of anybody noticing was slim to none.   
  
They needed to focus on fighting their way out of here. Everything else, dealing with Ori’s brothers and announcing the courtship would have to wait until they made it out of here. Hopefully, they would make it out of here.


End file.
